Untitled
by Forever Hopelessly Yours
Summary: Just another countless continuation of the 2004 movie ending. Christine goes back to Erik, but of course, things can't just go back the way they were. Rating will probably change. Oh, and there will probably be quite a bit of fluff later on too
1. Chapter 1

His voice reverberated through the stone passageways as the young lovers poled their way to the exit. His anguish was like nothing either one of them had ever heard, and just as the woman thought it had ended she heard his final scream and the cacophonous sound of glass being smashed into a million pieces.

She chanced a glance behind her, but they had turned too many corners and her former captive was no longer visible. She continued to gaze back at the misty waters but she felt a tug on her hand and an urgent whisper. Her head was once more facing the man she had chosen, and although she tried her best to look reassuring, she knew her eyes lied.

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Once the couple had made it to the surface they were greeted by Madam Giry. The ballet mistress urgently bid them to cover their mouths because of the thick black smoke that was billowing down the hallways of the opera house and without wasting any time with needless words she led them out of the opera house by a secret back entrance. After the trio emerged on the street the two women hugged fiercely. Madam Giry pressed a paper containing her address into the younger woman's hand and then turned to leave without a backwards glance. After a small tug from her fiancé the other woman too turned and made her way home.

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Neither one of them said a word as they sat on comfortable leather couch in the man's posh town house. Maybe that was because she couldn't stop crying and he was too busy trying to soothe her. He lifted his head slightly so he could eye the great grandfather clock and his eyebrows rose in surprise as he realized that it was nearing three o-clock.

"Christine, come, you need sleep desperately." His voice was gentle and after she failed to respond he tried to stand, but she clutched his arm fiercely and stared into his eyes with such desperateness that he froze.

"No, I can't sleep tonight. I fear I won't be able to sleep any other night either. Not after what I did…" Her voice was cracked and hoarse, a combination from crying and the smoke she inhaled on their escape from the opera house.

"Christine, you didn't do anything wrong—"

"Yes Raoul, I did. I left him there…what if the mob got him? They won't understand, they'll kill him!" Christine stood up, her eyes wild, "Oh God! What have I done? He'll die because of me! I left him there for dead! After all he's done for me, I am a selfish child, I am! I am the one who deserves to die, not him! He didn't know any better, no one taught him! He—"

"Christine! Calm down! Listen to yourself, you're hysterical. What you need is to go lay down and rest."

"No! What I need is to go back there and save him!"

"Absolutely not! I almost died saving YOU from HIM, the last thing I want is for you to become his prisoner again!" Raoul grabbed her arms and pulled her small frame into a tight hug. He could feel her heart beating frantically against his chest and he wasn't surprised when he felt the sobs start to leave her small body once more. "Christine, if you had not left you would have had to stay down there forever. You made the right choice. You chose love and freedom. You would be miserable living in a world where light never shines, becoming a slave to a monster every time he sang a note." Raoul pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her chocolate curls, "Christine, please, come lay down. I'll stay with you and help you through the night."

Christine didn't respond but instead stayed limp in her lover's arms until he picked her up with ease and carried her to the guest bedroom. With utmost care he laid her down and then pulled the covers over her. Once he was sure she was comfortable he pulled up a chair next to her and started to take off his shoes.

"You are too kind to me, do you know that?" Her voice was just a notch above a whisper and for a second Raoul wasn't sure she had said anything.

"And you think too highly of me, do you know that?" He offered her a tired smile and she did her best to send him one too. Raoul was happy when he heard her release a tired yawn and he felt relief wash over him as her lids started to flutter close. Once he was sure she had slipped off to sleep he rose from his seat, gathered his shoes and made him way to his own bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning after the disaster was far too bright for Christine. The birds could be heard happily chirping about, people on the street were gaily strolling along, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the crisp winter sky. Normally this type of weather lifted the woman's spirits and made her beam, but today it only annoyed and further agitated her. She didn't WANT the world to be happy, she wanted them to be sad and depressed like she was. With an agitated sigh, she rose from her seat at the window and made her way to the vanity, grimacing at the sight that met her eyes. She hadn't brushed her hair and her curls were a mass of snarls framing her pale face, She had horrible bags under her eyes and her lips didn't have their normal rosy red hue. Her attention was quickly diverted from her reflection to the door when she heard the soft knocking.

"Come in…" She rose from her seat and made her way to greet the handsome man that had just entered her room. Strange, no matter how horrible the circumstances, Raoul still seemed to be handsome and groomed. She tried to offer him a smile but she quickly found it to be a task she could not do.

"Good morning, I hope you managed to sleep well." Raoul could tell from his fiancé's appearance that she did not sleep well, but he found that it was easier to start conversation with a polite opener.

Christine chose to ignore his comment about her sleep but instead jumped right into what she had to talk about with him. "Raoul, I've been thinking…I can't stay here with you. I need to go back and see if he's ok." Christine heard Raoul begin to protest but she raised her hand in a gesture to shush him. "No. Don't interrupt me. This isn't some rash decision I made because of my emotions. Erik needs me, you do not. The world has been kind to you Raoul, and you have so many opportunities ahead of you, and I know I would just hold you back." Christine paused as her voice cracked, but she swallowed down the lump in her throat and continued. "You know I love you Raoul, I always will, but I cannot condemn Erik to a life lived alone in a hole somewhere."

"So you will condemn yourself!" Raoul shouted incredulously

"I am doing what is right! He was my teacher, my angel, he saved me when I first arrived at the Opera Populaire, now I have to save him." Christine stood up and walked over to where the viscount was standing. "Please…don't be angry with me, I don't think I can leave knowing that you'll be angry with me…"

"Then I am angry with you."

A sad smile tugged at Christine's lips and she blinked back some of her unshed tears. "I know you will find a beautiful young woman who can give you her whole heart. You deserve a girl like that, not one like me. I cannot force you to live a life with someone you will never be able to love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Raoul's calm demeanor seemed to finally crack. A tight gasp escaped his lips and he grabbed Christine in a tight embrace, burying his head in her dark curls. "I don't care! I'll be happy with as little love as you want to give me, please!"

Christine could feel her resolve thinning but she steeled her will and took a deep breath. "Raoul…how can you live knowing that my thoughts will always run back to the man in the mask? You'll get angry and jealous, and then that will grow to bitterness and resentment. You know this, and I know this."

"How am I to live knowing that you will be trapped with a madman somewhere? That his demonic eyes will be the ones gazing at your face, that his murdering hands will be caressing you, or that it is his bed you will lay in every night?" Raoul had released Christine and was furiously pacing around the room.

Christine felt some tears brim in her eyes at the thought of her future but she quickly wiped them away before Raoul saw them. "Sweet Raoul, it helps me to know that you will always hold concern for me, but he will be kind to me, this I am sure of. I know he will not treat me as a slave, but rather as a friend and a companion. I will write you occasionally if you want, to help settle some of your fears."

Raoul stopped pacing and looked over at her. "Yesterday I thought I would see your face for the rest of my life, and today I fear I won't ever see it again…I'll tell Remy to ready the carriage." It was his way of telling her he was letting her go. She watched him walk to her door, hesitate a moment before finally opening it and stepping out. When she heard the door click back in place she let herself cry, the realization of what she was about to do dawning on her. She was going to go back to the man that terrified her more then anyone else in the world…willingly.


	3. Chapter 3

Leaving Raoul was nearly as hard as leaving Erik and Christine was faced with just as many doubts, but her guilt was far less severe. She clutched her small suitcase in a death grip; it was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking like a leaf in a storm. She tried to calm her frantic heart as her carriage carried her to the Opera Populaire, but it was all in vain. Too soon, the ruined building came into sight. It was surrounding by a crowd and the police. She had her driver take her to the side she and Raoul had emerged from last night, glad when she saw that there was nothing but some signs reading 'Danger! Do not cross' she would risk some debris falling on her, but she could not risk sneaking past the guards that were all around the main entrances. After paying her driver, she stood outside the small manhole that would lead her to the tunnel that would lead her back into the life she had thought she wanted to escape from so badly.

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The trip down was hard. Soot covered the walls and floor, and even more hung in the air. Christine's eyes burned and her chest ached, but still she continued on, she had come too far to turn back and run home defeated. Home, where was that? She could not go back to Raoul, and obviously she could not return to the opera house to live…maybe if Erik would not take her she would go back to where she and her father had lived, in the house by the shore, where all her memories were that of a happy young girl who laughed often and smiled easily.

After nearly an hour of wandering, Christine found the lake and was relieved to find that the small boat she and Raoul had fled in was still docked on the bank. She placed the suitcase containing a dress and a few necessary items in and then pushed off, getting the bottom of her dress wet and ruining her shoes. She didn't care though, she just removed them and started poling across the misty lake, trying to remember the way. The only times she had crossed this lake was with Erik, and neither time was she paying any attention to the direction he was taking. Somehow, she managed to cross the lake and she nearly fainted when she saw the place that Erik called home.

It was ruined. The rich tapestries and carpets that decorated the place where ripped and shredded, and a few appeared torched, his music was floating in the water, completely beyond any kind of salvation. Christine's heart broke when she saw his organ, the pipes were broken and most of the keys were missing. Obviously, the mob had found his home, but had they found her angel? She poled up to the shore and jumped out of the boat and called out for him, surprised at how shaky her voice sounded.

"Erik? Erik?! Please answer me angel!" She searched all the rooms, but she didn't see him, nor did she hear any reply. She felt tears sting the back of her eyes, had the mob killed him? Had he died in this place, alone and scared? It was her fault...

Christine sat on the floor next to the huge gilded mirror with her head in her hands and cried. "Oh my angel, I'm sorry! This was my fault! Why did I let him take me away? I'm sorry…I'm so sorry! Please God, forgive me for this!" She didn't know how long she sat there and repeated those words, nor did she know how long she sat there and cried. Her throat started burning, and her eyes ran out of tears, and still she continued to dry heave. Her eyes caught on something white in the corner and she lifted her tear and soot stained face to see what it was. It was his mask. She reached for it, expecting it to be cold and hard to the touch, much like Erik's demeanor, but she was surprised when she picked it up and it was soft and warm, like he was the very first night she saw him, before she had betrayed him.

Her thoughts drifted to that morning at the cemetery, how she had turned from him again. Why? Was she that weak? She knew the answer was yes; she had always been a weak child. But that was not the reason she denied him that day. Of course she was frightened of him, but that was not the deciding factor either. She was angry with him. She was angry that he had lied to her for so many years. He had told her he was an angel! An omnipresent being that watched over her and guided her for her father. Christine rubbed her thumb over the smooth white leather. He was an angel. Maybe he was not sent directly from God, or her father, but he was meant to find her. That's why so many bad things happened when she denied him, she was denying destiny. They were meant to save each other. She had chosen the easy path, but she had also chosen the wrong one.

She clutched the mask to her chest and cried out. "God! Are you listening to me all the way down here? If you will still listen to someone as undeserving as me, please listen now. Let me find him. I promise this time I'll stay with him. I know now that I was always supposed to be with him, that is my mission, save this man, please, give me one more chance. Give me back my angel, please."

After her prayer left her lips she hung her head, and just the very last of her tears dripped onto the mask in her hands she heard a groan come from behind the mirror. She turned and pulled back the curtain covering most of the frame and saw a hidden tunnel. Christine quickly stood up and ran down it, dropping to the ground when she saw Erik huddled against the wall, his shirt ripped and soaked with blood.


	4. Chapter 4

The next two days were the fastest two days of Christine's life. As soon as she found Erik passed out on the floor she became a blur of motion, not stopping to rest or eat. She opened his shirt to see where the blood had come from, horrified when she saw a deep gash across his right side. It was no longer bleeding, but the scab was that of dried blood and dirt, and she would have to wash that off to prevent infection, an action that would cause the wound to reopen. Christine also noticed that his hands were extremely bloody, and upon further investigation, she found shards of glass around his fingers and knuckles. That would explain the broken mirror. Quickly she ran back down the passage and checked the room she had slept in, the one with the swan bed. The bookcase was knocked over and most of the pillows were slashed, but the bed itself was all right. She gathered the blankets off the ground and readied the bed.

The hardest part was getting Erik to the bed. Christine was not as frail as she looked, but she was no means strong enough to carry Erik's dead weight. She hooked his right arm across her neck, trying her best to stand straight up, but in the end she had to lean against the wall for support and half carry, half drag, him to the bed. When they finally reached their destination, her face was flushed and she was out of breath, and to top it off, Erik's wound had reopened before she had the chance to clean it. As gracefully as possible she positioned him in what she hoped was a comfortable position and raced off to try find something that would work as bandage.

Of course, it was extremely hard to find anything that was suitable, but soon she found his wardrobe. It had been knocked over and the clothes were strewn about all over the floor, but they appeared clean. She grabbed a handful of white cotton shirts and brought them back to her patient. She tore the first shirt into strips and went to the bathroom and got them wet, then she got to work cleaning the gash. Erik stirred a couple times, and even moaned in pain once, but his exhaustion kept him asleep. After Christine got all the dirt, debris, and dried blood off she tore up the other shirt and tied it around his torso. Of course, it wasn't the best bandage, but it would keep him from bleeding to death. She got to work on his hands and by the time she had finished she was ready to pass out, but her job was not done.

It was getting late, Christine could tell by the chill that was setting in the air. The room had a fireplace, and she knew there were matches in the drawer of the vanity, Erik had told her when she came to stay with him, incase she wanted to light some of the many beautiful candles that had once decorated this room. Christine checked the logs and was surprised to find they were fresh. She looked around for some kind of tinder, and her eyes fell on some of his discarded music sheets. She hesitated…she couldn't burn that! She looked back at Erik. He was already weak, he needed to stay warm through the night, and the few blankets that were still on the bed may not be enough. There was no helping it. She gathered up the music and piled it around the logs and then threw it a couple of matches and before long a warm fire was blazing. Christine checked the bandage around Erik's waist, not surprised to see the dark line where the blood had seeped through. She would have to change it in the morning. For now, she would try to clean up his home as best she could.

She cleaned all the first night, stopping only to check on Erik, who was still deep in slumber. She managed to clear away all the broken glass, and put all the bookcases right again. She hung up all the tapestries that weren't torn and put the torn ones in a neat pile beside his organ. She collected all his music and put it in a folder beside his ruined organ and then began fixing his furnishings.

Late in the night, or early in the morning, Christine couldn't tell down there, Erik began crying her name. She ran to him, placing her hand on his head.

"Erik! Erik, my angel! I'm here! Hush, I'm here!" She said as she stroked his sweaty brow.

He couldn't hear her though, and he thrashed about wildly. "Christine! Wait! Do not leave me down here! Please! Christine!" He started to sob and Christine's heart broke as she realized he was having a fevered nightmare of the night she left him.

"Oh Erik! What did I do to you?" She whispered has his nightmare subsided, but his breathing remained heavy. Christine stroked his destroyed face. She was unaware of when she dropped off, but she woke when Erik started wiggling beneath her, this time though, it was no nightmare.

"What is this trick!?" Erik was fully awake now, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs. "Does God torture me even in death? Is this my hell? To be faced with a mirage of her every day?"

Christine jumped off the bed in the blink of an eye, terror seizing her body. But his arm had already moved out and he grabbed her arm, squeezing so hard she yelped in pain

A dark laugh erupted from his lips. "What? Could it be I'm not dreaming? Have you come back for one last look Christine? Am I that handsome that you just could not get enough?"

Christine stood rooted to her spot. This was the man she was afraid of. She tried to tell her brain that he would not hurt her, but the pain he was applying to her wrist seemed to convince her head more that yes, indeed, he would. "No Erik, I-I came back to be with, to stay with, you…"

He freed her wrist as if her skin burned him to touch. "What, does your boy not want you anymore? Am I your last resort? I am no better than the streets, in fact, you're probably better off there than here."

"No, I left him to be with you! I want to stay with you!" Christine felt the panic start to settle in stomach. What if he threw her out? Was he serious when he said the streets where safer than being here with him? He had always been her safe haven, what would happen if he turned against her, like she had turned against him.

"No, Christine! You will not come back here so you can ease your guilt!" His eyes flashed dangerously as he yelled at her. "I will not have you come back to me because you felt pity! I don't want your pity! That was never what I wanted! Go, now!"

"That's what you said last time!" She cried out before she collapsed in a heap on the floor. "You told me to leave you! I kissed you, and you told me to leave!" She had never realized how his words had affected her until that moment.

Erik was taken back for a moment, and Christine took advantage of it. "Why! I chose you! I picked you! You told me to leave you and I did, now I come back and still, you make me leave! I'm sorry Angel! Just please, let me stay!" Her tears fell fast and heavy as she cradled her head in her arms, sobbing into her skirts.

Suddenly, Erik saw that the crying child was right. He had told her to leave. After she kissed him he couldn't keep her and let the mob shoot her as well as him. He had sent her away to save her. He wanted to go to her and pick her up and cradle her in his arms, assure her that he still loved her and that everything was better now, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead he rolled over onto his uninjured side and pretended that he was sleeping.

Christine continued to cry. She cried for herself, because she had beat herself up thinking she had deserted her angel when he was the one who no longer wanted her, she cried for Raoul, because he had done so much for her and she could not return his love properly, and she cried for Erik, because he was trapped in a shell, unable to let her enter.

After a while, Christine stopped crying, but her misery remained. She thought Erik was asleep and she prayed once more to her God.

"I'm sorry Lord. I know you have given me another chance with him…but I don't know what to do. Do I leave again? Is that what he wants me to do? I have hurt him enough, help me to make the right choice, please…" Her voice faded off, as two days without sleep caught up on her and she fell asleep, her head in her arms and her back against the wall.

Erik closed his eyes as the tears burned against his eyelids.


	5. Chapter 5

When Christine woke up the first thing she felt was pain. Her body was stiff from the awkward position she had slept in all night, her stomach cramped painfully from lack of food and her throat felt like she had swallowed glass. She stretched her legs out and winced when she felt the blood start rushing back through them. Christine looked over at the bed, unable to tell if Erik was asleep or not. As she sat and stared at his back, she thought back to what he had said to her last night.

Leave. That's what he wanted her to do. But, last time he had commanded her to leave, he hadn't really meant it, why would this time be any different? She knew she couldn't live without herself if she left him here, injured and alone, for a second time. Christine stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed to check if he was asleep or not.

His eyes were closed, and his breathing was gentle, but Christine was aware that Erik was the master of trickery. She watched for a moment, just to make sure he was sleeping. After a minute she was satisfied that he was indeed asleep and she carefully pulled back the blankets slowly so she could check on his bandage.

It was just as she expected, badly in need of a change. She could see the dark line of where the blood had soaked through the cotton. Just as she finished pulling the blankets back up, she heard Erik's voice, heavy from just waking up.

"Why are you still here?" There was no emotion, good or bad, behind his words.

"I told you, I am not leaving." Christine said, taking a step back from the bed.

"I want you to leave."

"I want to stay."

"And why should you get your way instead of me?" His eyes bore into her, and she knew he was trying to intimidate her, to make her look away. She refused.

"Because I do not really think you want me to leave."

Erik slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, eyeing Christine carefully. Did she really want to stay, or did she have ulterior motives? And if she did, could he face her leaving him again when she had accomplished whatever it was she came for? He knew he could not make her leave by force, due to his injury, so it was starting to look like she was going to have to stay. Erik continued to think about her staying for a few moments. He would allow it for a few days, watch and see if she was acting strangely, and then decide where to go from there.

Christine continued to stand there with her shoulders squared back, watching him. She could tell from the suddenly distant look in his eyes that he was thinking about something very seriously, and she didn't want to interrupt him. When he seemed to snap back to reality and notice her again, she jumped a little, surprise rushing through her when she heard his next words.

"Fine. Stay." He replied flatly.

Christine nodded. "Ok. I need to change your bandage now."

Erik shook his head. "No, already you have done too much for me. I can change it myself."

Christine was little stung by his rejection, but she tried not to show it. Instead, she just brought him the ripped shirt and bowl of water and left the room, giving him the privacy she knew he would want while he reapplied a fresh bandage.

She walked back in after about ten minutes had passed and sat down near the bed. A heavy, unnatural silence hung in the air and she tried to break it.

"How did that happen?" She asked, tilting her head towards the wound across his chest.

"A bullet grazed me." His words were so emotionless, Christine could hardly stand it. "Do you have my mask?"

Christine nodded and went to retrieve the soft leather mask from the tunnel. When she returned she looked away while he carefully placed it on his damaged face. "I never knew it was made out of leather, it looked hard."

"Things are not always as they seem." Erik said, catching her eyes.

She felt her breath hitch. He was now The Phantom once again. She realized then that she hated that mask. She hated how it contrasted against his black hair, and how it made his mouth turn down into an angry line, and how it seemed to make him look like he was always scowling at her.

"Why do you still want to wear it?" She asked, her gaze still locked with his fierce golden eyes.

Erik's visible eyebrow rose in shock. "Christine, I thought you were more intelligent than that. My mask is part of me. Plus, you should be thankful I continue to wear it, I am saving your eyes, not mine."

"I would rather look at your face." Christine whispered to herself, dropping her gaze to her lap.

Erik heard her comment but made no remark. There was no way she would rather gaze upon the ruins of his face. Twice now she had seen him unmasked, and both times she had screamed and looked away. "Christine, have you eaten anything since you arrived down here?"

Christine looked up and shook her head, a little surprised at the sudden subject change. "No, I had been so busy looking after you I hadn't even realized I was hungry."

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Erik's lips, but the smile itself never really blossomed. Slowly he got out of the bed and walked out of the room to a make shift kitchen area. Christine followed closely behind him.

"Go sleep in the bed while I prepare us something. I know you didn't receive much sleep last night."

Christine didn't say anything, she just turned around and headed back for the room. When she reached the doorway she turned around and gazed at Erik. He was facing away from her, so that she had a view of the bandage that wrapped around his muscled back. She noticed for the first time that he appeared just like any other man would, and she felt her stomach tighten as she gazed on him. He was no angel, nor was he a phantom, he was just Erik, and he was just as human as she was. She let out a small smile and retreated back into the room, happily falling onto the soft mattress, sleep setting in on her before her curls hit her pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Christine was pulled out of her deep sleep by the aroma of food. Her stomach gave a loud growl and she groggily opened her eyes to see Erik placing a bowl of something on the nightstand next to her. He had put on a cotton shirt and changed his pants, his hair was wet and combed back and he smelt of some kind of spices.

"You smell nice." Christine said as she rubbed her eyes and sat up

"That's the stew." Erik said as he sat down at the end of the bed.

Christine crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "No, I know the difference between you and stew. The stew smells delicious, you smell nice."

"What you smell is cologne from Persia." He said as she picked up the bowl of stew and blew on it to cool it.

"Oh. Did you wear it during Don Juan Triumphant?" She asked as she took a small bit of the food he had prepared her.

"Yes, I often wear it, the performance was one occasion."

"I remembered the smell of it." Christine said and took another bite. "This is very good, how come you aren't eating any?"

"I had mine while you were sleeping." He said as he stood up.

Christine gazed at him with inquiry. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go attend to some affairs. Incase you didn't know, the Opera Populaire burned down. It makes no sense for me to continue to live underneath a building that will soon be demolished."

She hadn't thought of that. Where would Erik go? And would he allow her to come with him? He had let her stay, but maybe that was because he knew he would be leaving as soon as he could?

"After you finish, you can take a bath in the lake if you want. It's not very warm, nor is the water crystal clean, but it's clean enough. I'll be in my room, so you don't have to worry about me seeing." He said, as if he was reading her mind. Christine nodded and he left her room.

--

Christine finished the stew quickly and then went to see about taking a bath in the lake. Her shampoos and soaps were still in the washroom off to her room, although a few of them had been smashed by the damned mob. She collected a few of her favorites, along with a towel and a dress she had taken out of her suitcase and walked down to the lake.

He had been right, the water was freezing. Christine had dipped her toe in to check and she quickly pulled it back out. She looked over her shoulder to check to see if Erik's door was still shut. It was. Quickly she removed her dress and undergarments and waded into the water. The intensity of the cold robbed her of her breath and she shivered violently, but it was worth it to be clean again. In record speed, she washed her body and hair and jumped out. She dried off quickly and put on her clean dress. It was one of her favorites, a simple jade colored one with a lower neckline. She pulled out her hairbrush from her suitcase and brushed her curls. Once she was satisfied that she was clean and presentable again she started towards Erik's room, and when she got there she knocked lightly on his door.

"Come in Christine" He called from the other side

Christine opened the door and sat down in a chair near the desk he was seated at. "Erik?"

"Hm?" He said, his eyes not leaving the document he was reading.

"What are you planning on doing?" She said nervously, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his answer, she was afraid he was going to tell her she could not come with him, where-ever it was he decided to go.

Erik noticed the apprehension in her voice, put down the document and turned to face her, startled by the transformation she had just undergone. Of course, he had always considered her beautiful, but before she had looked tired and bedraggled, now she looked refreshed and renewed, back to the way he was accustomed to seeing her.

"What do you mean, Christine?"

"You said you couldn't stay here anymore, where do you plan on going?" She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes searching his for some kind of hint.

"Oh. I plan on moving into my house." He said as he leaned back in his chair.

"What? You have a house??" Christine was so shocked she could have been knocked over with a feather.

Erik's eyebrow rose. "Why yes, I do. I have had one for many years."

"Then why have you continued to live here?"

Erik shrugged. "For a while it was because I was lazy. I had grown used to living here, and I don't like change much. Then it was because of you, I had told you I was your Angel of Music, what kind of Angel goes and deserts the one they protect? Besides, the house is unfurnished and lacking decoration, my home here suited me better, but now I see that the time has finally come for be to move into a real home."

Christine sat there, digesting the new information for a few moments, a thousand and one questions going through her mind. "Where is it? How big is it? Describe it, please?"

"It's a simple three bedroom home towards the outskirts of town, maybe a forty minute carriage drive. It's set about half a mile into the woods, but I had the area around the building cleared some, incase I ever desired to build more on."

"I can't believe you never mentioned that you owned a house…" Christine said, before crossing her arms over her chest. "What else haven't you told me?"

That I'm scared to death you're going to leave me again. That you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. That I will always be in love with you. "Oh Christine, that's a conversation for a whole other day."

Christine laughed but soon her original unease settled back in. "Erik?"

"Christine?"

"Can I come with you?"

Erik let one of his rare smiles slip onto his lips. "Who am I to deny you anything?"

Christine smiled happily, for the first time in a long time she felt as though she had her old Erik back, the one that sang to her and told her stories, the one she had first dreamt about and fallen in love with.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day went by and Christine and Erik barely spoke a word. After their conversation last night, Christine left Erik to finish making the necessary preparations for the move. She had read a book of fables and drifted off to sleep. In the morning, she had expected Erik to be done, but he was still in his room, and she assumed she shouldn't bother him. Occasionally he came out to check on her, make sure she was all right, and soon Christine got the feeling that he was coming out to make sure she hadn't left while his door had been closed.

By the time night fell (or what Christine's body told her was night), Christine was in a foul mood. She felt neglected, and she had a store of pent up energy from sitting around and reading all day. She was sitting on a couch in the living room area when she heard Erik's door open. She turned her head and watched him walk down the hallway and take a seat in a chair near her.

"Done?" She asked hopefully.

"Done." He replied with a heavy sigh.

Christine smiled. "Did you change your bandage at all today?"

Erik inhaled quickly, he had forgotten. He knew she would be angry with him if he said no, so he decided to give her a little white lie. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. "Of course."

Christine's eyes flashed anger for a second. "No you didn't, the bandages have been out here with me all day."

Erik knew he was in for it. Not only had he not changed his bandage, but also he had been caught in a lie. "You're right I didn't. But I didn't want you to worry, it's fine. It's clotted nicely and I hardly ever feel pain, unless I hit it or lay on it."

"That's not the point! If you don't change your bandage at least once a day, you could get an infection! And then you could die! What would I do if you died!?" Christine shouted, her arms across her chest in a defensive manner.

Erik sighed, it was not uncommon for Christine to blow things out of proportion like this and he tried to placate her. "I'm sorry, I'll change it now…"

"You don't even care!! You're only doing it now because you want me to calm down! Well, I won't Erik! And don't you say I'm overreacting, you're underreacting! You can't just forget to take care of yourself Erik!" Christine said, her throat choking up.

"Christine? Are you crying?" Erik asked.

"NO!" She shouted as she jumped up and ran into her room, leaving Erik to sit there, bemused and startled.

--

Erik knocked on Christine's door quietly, afraid she would yell at him and tell him to go away. He had changed his bandage, checked to make sure nothing looked infected, and then given her thirty minutes of alone time, something he figured she would want.

"Come in" Her reply was muffled, and he guessed that she had her face buried in a pillow.

Erik opened the door and saw that his guess was correct. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her and gently placed a hand on her back. "Christine?"

"I'm sorry I got so worked up." She said, her face still shoved in the pillow

"I'm sorry I lied. Please take your head out of the pillow, I would hate for you to suffocate."

Christine took her head out of her pillow and climbed into Erik's arms so she could bury her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder. "I just don't know what I would do without you." She said pitifully.

Erik wasn't sure what to do when she crawled into his arms, but it felt instinctive to wrap his arms around her back, so he did. The faint smell of lavender reached his nose and he realized it was from her hair. He lowered his unmasked cheek to the top of her head, amazed at how soft and silky her hair was. "And I don't know what I would do without you."

"So you didn't really want me to leave?" Christine asked, her voice now hopeful.

"No, Christine, I didn't. I'm sorry I ever told you to, I was trying to be noble, I suppose."

Christine sat up slightly so she could look him in the eyes. "Well, don't you ever try to be noble again."

Erik laughed and nodded his head. "Ok." He continued to look into her eyes for a few moments, his heart pounding at a rapid pace and his mouth suddenly dry. "Please don't leave me again."

Christine placed her hand on his visible cheek and smiled at him. "Of course not Angel. I told you, I want to stay with you."

Erik closed his eyes and leaned against her hand, trying to soak in the warmth she radiated. He felt the icy grip he had placed around his own heart thaw slightly. In his arms he had the woman he loved more than life itself, and all he wanted to do was say 'Christine, I love you'

Erik immediately tensed up and his eyes flew open as the memory of the rooftop replayed in his mind's eye. The boy was the one holding her, and it was the boy's face she was caressing, and it was the boy's voice that said those words.

"Erik?" Christine was confused, why had he become so stiff?

"Get off." His voice was tight as he tried to control his rage.

Christine scrambled onto the covers beside him, her eyes wildly searching his face for some kind of clue as to what she did. "Erik? What's wrong? What did I do?"

Erik hastily stood from the bed, his face set in a deep scowl, but he had no answer for Christine's question, so he started towards the door.

"Erik! Please, I'm sorry! Just come back!" Christine pleaded.

Erik let out a vicious little laugh. "How is it that you are apologizing, when you don't even know what you did? That truly shows your sincerity my dear."

"I know I upset you! I'm sorry I upset you, I wasn't trying to!" Where had her Angel gone? And how was she to get him back?

"Then what were you trying to do when you ran off with that boy?!" Erik snapped back. He felt a small amount of guilt when he saw Christine jump with shock, and he wasn't surprised to see the glimmer of tears in her huge, doe-like eyes.

"W-What? Erik…I." Christine paused and looked down at the blankets beneath her. "I thought we were passed that…I thought since I came back…"

Another malicious laugh erupted from Erik's mouth. "Oh! I see. Since you came back and gave me your little crocodile tears, all is forgiven and forgotten."

"No, no! I meant it! I came back because I knew I was supposed to be with you! You were my Angel! You were the one that comforted me and kept me safe! Erik, please! Believe me when I say…"

"When you say what, Christine?" Erik shot back venomously.

"I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

I love you. Three tiny words, just eight letters in all, but they had the power to freeze Erik in his spot. He wasn't sure how long he stood there with his back facing her. He was aware of the pounding of his heart, the beads of sweat that had suddenly formed on his palms, how he now had the new found urge to throw up because his stomach had tightened so violently.

Christine sat on the bed, waiting for him to say something, or to at least turn around and face her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she saw Erik move again. She thought he was going to turn around, but she was instead horrified to see him walk out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

"Erik!" She cried, jumping off her bed and running to the door. She threw it open and ran into the living room, just in time to hear the sound of his door and closing, and the quite click of a lock moving into place. "Erik!!" Christine shouted painfully as she rushed towards his door, pounding on his furiously, but to no avail, he refused to let her in.

She let her body slip down to the floor, angry tears spilling from her eyes. Why had he rejected her? She thought he loved her, she was sure he still did when they had their moment together on her bed.

--

Erik tried to drown out the sounds of Christine's tiny beating on his door but he couldn't. When they subsided though, the voices in his mind started up, and he almost wished Christine to beat on his door some more

'Why would you do that to her? She told you that she loved you.'

'She said the same thing to the boy.'

'But she came back to you! That must mean she loves you more than the boy!'

'You still do not know that the boy did not reject her.'

'Like you are rejecting her now?'

'She deserves it! Three times, she rejected you! You told her you loved her, and she did not care!'

"Agh!" Erik roared as he knocked over the wardrobe Christine had carefully picked up for him three days earlier, when she first came down to his ruined home. "Just shut the fuck up! Leave me alone, leave me the hell alone!" He screamed to the battling voices in his mind.

--

Outside the cold wooden door, Christine heard every word, and each one pierced her heart like an ice pick. She covered her mouth with her hand to silence her sobs and she ran to her room, locking the door behind her.

She thought he was going to be thrilled to hear her say those words, now it appeared as if she ruined whatever they had left. She curled up under the covers of her bed, trying her best not to let her sobs be heard, she didn't want to upset Erik any further. She thought back to something she had once heard one of the ballet rats say, that love was only for silly teenage girls and poets. She was seventeen, hardly a little girl anymore, but, the feeling she had for Erik felt so much like love to her. He was all she thought about, and the thought of losing him scared her to her very soul. She dreamt about it every night, and it was his eyes that she wanted to see across the room for the rest of her life. Wasn't that love?

Christine wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she heard knocking at her door. She didn't answer though, she wanted him to think she was asleep. She knew he would want to talk about what she had said, and she just wanted to pretend those cursed words had never slipped out of her mouth.

Now that Erik was the one on the outside of the door, he didn't know what to do. About two hours had passed since the whole ordeal had occurred, and he had no idea how long Christine had been in her room. She had locked her door though, something she never did, so he had no way to see if she was really sleeping or not. Every once in a while he would hear her sniffle, and he tried knocking a few more times, but she never came and gave him admittance. Soon Erik returned to his room for a night full of little sleep.

--

When morning came, Erik returned to Christine's room to find the door still locked and closed. He walked off to the kitchen to make something for breakfast, hoping that the aroma of a warm meal would bring her out.

It seemed that his plan worked, because as soon as he finished putting the last crepe on a plate he heard Christine's door open, then close, and he heard her light footsteps bring her down the hall. She stood there for a moment in the white nightgown she had brought from Raoul's, like a wary dog.

"Good morning, I figured you would be hungry." Erik said and even offered her a small smile.

"Good morning. And thank you, I'm starved." Christine said as she took the offered plate and sat down, biting into the pastry. "These are very good. I had no idea you were such a wonderful chef."

Erik was relieved when he heard Christine's pleasant voice. "I've had many years to study and perfect certain dishes."

The pair ate their food in relative silence, and when they finished, Christine offered to wash the dishes. When Erik refused to allow her to do so she just laughed and said it was the least she could do for making her such a nice meal.

The rest of the day continued on in much the same manner. Christine would not start a conversation, but would actively engage in it, and Erik assumed she had gotten over whatever had been troubling her last night. A couple of times he had wanted to bring the subject back up, but things seemed to be peaceful, and he was not one to stir dying embers to life again.

When evening settled in they were both on opposite sides of the living room, each reading a book, when Christine placed hers face down in her lap.

"When are we going to your home?"

Erik was slightly startled when her voice broke the silence, but he quickly recovered. "By the end of the week. I needed time to arrange for Madame Giry to order all my furniture, and for the crowd to thin out, they're still hovering around like vultures outside."

"How do you know when the end of the week is? You don't have a calendar anywhere. And when did you contact Madame?" Christine rattled off her question at a furious pace.

Erik put his hand up to slow her questions down. "I have lived down here for over ten years, I don't require a calendar anymore. And I sent Madame Giry a letter about two days ago, when you were in your room sleeping."

Christine seemed content with the answers she was given and turned back to her book. Erik watched her a moment, curious to see if she was going to bring up the other night. She gave no indication of it, so he put it at the back of his mind, deciding that there was no sense worrying over it if she no longer was.

Twenty more minutes passed and soon Christine started feeling drowsy. She marked her place in her book and said good night to Erik. He watched her walk down the hallway to her room. He had a strange feeling that she wasn't as happy with him as she was letting off, but she had already shut the door to her room, and he didn't want to disturb her now. He marked his page and extinguished the candles before also heading off to retire for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas (to those who celebrate) and thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews I have been receiving for this story. Sorry I've been kind of slow on updates, for this story and the others, but I just had a bunch of mid-terms I had to study for, and then with holiday shopping and whatnot I had no time or muse, but I'm hopping things will settle down now. Anyway, here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it!**

---

Things continued on this way for the rest of the week. Christine was always polite if Erik started the conversation, but she never actively engaged in it like she used to, and she never initiated one herself. Finally on the day of the move, about an hour before nightfall, which is when the carriage was supposed to arrive at the back entrance of the burned down opera building, Christine sat down on the couch and looked up at Erik with a stern face.

"We need to talk."

Erik noticed the lifelessness that was in her tone immediately. He had nearly forgotten about the ugly events from earlier in the week, but it all came back to him as he sat down on a chair opposite her and touched the tips of his fingers together.

"Alright." He said, staring at her intently with his hypnotic eyes.

Christine took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about many things, and I've decided you were right all along. You don't need me, and you're better off without me. I'm sorry about the other night, I see you're fine pretending it never happened, and although I will admit I don't particularly care for that course of action, I'll accept it as what you want. I plan on helping you move into your new house, and then I'll take a carriage back into town, where I will meet up with Meg. She and I will try to find an affordable flat and until the time that I find one I will stay with her and Madame."

Erik sat there as she announced all this, his expression never changing. When he was certain she finished he stared into her brown eyes so intensely that she had to drop her gaze to the floor.

"Christine, I'm afraid we've suffered some miscommunication. I assumed you did not want to talk about the other night, just as you assumed I wanted to pretend it never happened. I know very well it did happen, and I don't think its healthy or wise to think otherwise."

She sat there for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. She had been planning her speech all week, but now that she had delivered it, she didn't know what to say back to Erik. Christine had been so busy trying to decide what to do she had forgotten that Erik never let her get away doing anything the easy, and he would argue her decision until Hell froze over.

"Erik, we don't need to talk about it…I think you said enough already…" Christine replied stiffly as her mind drifted back to the way he had shouted at her through the door.

Erik sat silent for a moment. He thought back to that night, he hadn't said a word to her after she had said those three words he had been longing to hear for so long. What was she talking about?

"Christine? If you are talking about the way I left, I sincerely apologize. I was shocked, and to be honest, a dark part of me was angry…"

"I'm not talking about that, Erik! Are you really so old that you don't remember how you yelled at me!?" Christine exclaimed incredulously. "You cursed at me, you've never done that before. That's how I knew you wanted me to leave…" The last part of her sentence was little more than a whisper, and if it hadn't of been perfectly silent in the grotto Erik would have never heard it.

"Christine, were you still outside my door? I thought you had gone back to your room long before then! I wasn't yelling at you! You're right, I would never say those things to you, I wouldn't have said them if I even knew you could hear them!" Erik got up from his seat and sat down next to Christine on the couch, grasping one of her small hands in his much larger one.

"W-What? Then who were you talking to?" Christine asked, bemused.

The masked man let out a deep sigh. "No one, I was in the midst of an inner conflict. I was shouting at myself for how I handled the situation, and then a part of me was trying to refuse that you could mean what you said."

Understanding seemed to wash over Christine's pretty face. "So you didn't mean it, when you said…those things?"

Erik offered her one of his rare little smiles and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. "No, not a single word of it."

Christine wanted to still be angry for how he had reacted, how he had just turned his back on her, but he seemed to be sincerely sorry for his actions, and his tiny kisses on her knuckles were so sweet, that she found the feat impossible. She pulled her hand away and threw her arms around the man's neck, snuggling into her nook that his shoulder and neck formed.

"I've missed you." She said, her face still buried against him.

He closed his eyes as he felt her warm embrace and he wrapped his arms around her back. "I've been with you all week."

Christine sat up slightly, so her eyes could meet Erik's. "No, we haven't been able to do this. We haven't talked, or spent time together, or just enjoy each other's company."

"Hmm, I see. Well, I hate to cut short our time together now, but I believe the carriage should be arriving within a few moments, we should be outside waiting to greet it." Erik said and begrudgingly released his grasp around Christine.

Christine seemed just as annoyed at the idea of removing her own arms, but after a moment she did. She went to grab her small suitcase and then met Erik near one of his tunnels only he knew about.

"Now, you're going to have to stay close to me, if you get yourself lost I'm not sure I'll be able to find you." Erik warned.

Christine slipped her hand into Erik's and smiled up at him. "I won't lose you."

Erik nodded and turned to face the tunnel. She may have not meant it, but those words meant so much more than their common meaning to him. He gave her hand a small squeeze and then stepped into the inky darkness of the tunnel that would eventually lead them to the outside, and then to their new life, away from the Opera Populaire and all the misfortune that had occurred there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Alright, you are all free to beat me as much as you feel the need. I have been gone for FAR too long, and I have left you guys hanging, so for that I apologize. Of course I could offer a bunch of excuses and stuff, but I'm not going to waste your time with that, instead, I'm going to start writing up some new chapters for all my stories as quickly as possible.**

**---**

The carriage ride outside of Paris was boring and uneventful. Erik and Christine chatted together, the angry cloud that had settled between the pair during the week had finally dissipated, and it left no shed of evidence it had even been there in the first place.

After about a quarter of an hour the carriage stopped outside a gated gravel driveway and started unloading the small amount of luggage. Erik stepped out and paid the man while Christine sat and gazed out the window.

Erik had been very modest in his description of the place. The house wasn't visible from the quiet country road they were on, but the winding gravel driveway and black-iron gate looked like something out of a fairytale. There were tall pine trees all around and the happy chirpings could be heard frequently. A happy smile broke over Christine' face as Erik helped her from the carriage and she inhaled the clean air.

"I had forgotten how dirty the air was in the city!" Christine exclaimed.

Erik offered her a small smile, but he was unable to join in her exuberance, his nerves were too far on edge. He pulled a key from inside his jacket pocket and unlocked the gate and then quickly gathered their things and started down the path, Christine happily following a few steps behind him.

He heard her breath catch in her throat when the house actually came into view. To him, it was nothing special, just a house, but obviously it pleased Christine.

"Erik! You said it was simple!" Christine remarked as she stared up at the house.

It was a lovely house, made out of stone with a high, gable roof made out of dark wooden shingles and a quaint wooden patio that wrapped around the whole house. The windows had shudders that matched the roof and even though Erik said it had only three bedrooms, Christine wondered how big those bedrooms were, as the house seemed to be fairly large.

While Christine stood and stared at the house Erik removed another key from his pocket and unlocked the door, setting their luggage down. Of course he knew the layout of the house, he had been the one to design it, but he had never seen it furnished. He had entrusted a large sum of money to Madame Giry and told her to decorate it in whatever fashion she thought best.

He was pleased to see that the living room had been furnished with dark mahogany and the walls were painted a rich red to match, and he smiled when he saw a piano nestled comfortably in the corner of the room. Of course, it was nothing compared to his old pipe organ, but it was still a nice instrument. He heard Christine's happy squeal as she entered and he shook it his head slightly, it was almost too easy to keep her happy. He made his way through the room and into the kitchen, pleased with the decorations in here as well. It has that certain atmosphere, cozy and country-like. Erik left the kitchen to go examine the guest bedroom. It was nicely decorated, and Madame has even left a nice vase of lilacs on the nightstand. Next Erik examined the room that would be Christine's. It had been painted a spring green color, and it was light and refreshing, just as his Christine. The bed frame was made of iron painted white and had a matching green comforter over it. Before Erik could wonder if Christine would like the décor or not he heard her enter behind him.

"Oh! Can this be my room? It's so pretty!" She practically begged, wrapping her arms around Erik's waist, looking up at him with hopeful doe eyes.

Erik gave her a small smile and nodded. "Yes, Christine, this can be your room."

Christine squeezed him happily and ran back to the living room to fetch her suitcase. Obviously, she was not going to waste a moment before unpacking.

While Christine was busy arranging her room to her liking, Erik went to look at his room. He was pleased to find that the walls had not been painted the same cheery green as Christine's, but instead a much deeper green with gold trim. It matched nicely with the dark wood furnishings in the room, and he was exceptionally pleased with the large writing desk Madame Giry had seen fit to purchase.

Erik strode over to his bed and sat down, letting out a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. Madame Giry had done an excellent job, and he would have to thank her immediately. The move had gone off perfectly, no one had stopped their carriage and they had attracted no attention, and Erik had made sure that he purchased the land around his home, so he didn't have to worry about neighbors moving in and disturbing his privacy.

Erik's masked face was snapped towards the door as Christine came bursting in. "Did you know Madame bought me dresses? I went to put away the ones I brought and my closet was full with all kind of lovely dresses already!" Her face was happily flushed and her eyes were sparkling, it appeared that she was under no stress from the move.

"Yes, I told her to get Meg to pick out some dresses for you, I knew you hadn't brought much." Erik said as he massaged his temples.

Christine walked over and sat next to Erik, for the first time noticing he wasn't exactly as happy as she was. "Angel? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Christine." He snapped at her, but when he saw her flinch, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I am not the best at change, it has been a long time since I lived in a home above ground." Erik thought about how pathetic he sounded, he was discomfited because he had to live **above** ground, in sunshine, like a normal human being.

Christine placed a sweet kiss on his unmasked cheek. "I know. You are so very brave, Erik." She whispered as she nestled against his shoulder. "This house is wonderful, and you are even more wonderful for moving here, and letting me come with you. I promise to try and make this house a home for you."

Erik listened and took a deep breath, his nerves finally calming slightly. He could handle this. This was what he had wanted all along, to live in a house with his beautiful Christine and live like a normal man, not as a monster. Now, maybe he would finally be able to.


	11. Chapter 11

The next couple of days went by smoothly, the pair read together and chatted comfortably and Christine had taken up an interest in learning how to cook, so Erik happily started teaching her what he could, although most of her dishes were thrown out as a smoking black heap.

One morning Christine woke up to the sounds of thunder rolling in the distance and rain hitting her window in little angry drops. She groaned and got out of bed, quickly walking across the cold wooden floor to her closet to get dressed.

Just as she was exiting her room, Christine heard a knocking at the front door. She stood in the hallway for a moment, wondering if it was just one of the shudders flapping in the wind, but after a minute or two had passed she heard it again, but this time it was louder. Christine immediately ran down the hallway and knocked on Erik's door, flinging it open as soon as she heard him respond.

He was sitting at his desk, bewilderment written all over his face. "Christine? Are you alright?"

"There's someone at the door!" Christine made it sound like an angry mob was about to ransack the house and kill them both.

Erik stood up and started walking towards the door, Christine following close behind him. Without hesitation, he opened it, and standing in the rain and early morning fog were the two Giry ladies. "Welcome Madame and Mademoiselle Giry."

"Meg! Madame!" Suddenly, Christine was no longer hiding behind the masked man, but instead enfolding the women in a tight hug as soon as they stepped inside.

"Christine!" Meg exclaimed just as happily, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend.

Madame Giry stepped aside and let the two girls chatter happily. "Hello Erik, I'm sorry if we woke you."

"Madame, you have known me for a very long time, and when have you ever caught me sleeping?" Erik teased gently. "Thank you for coming. Since you provided so much help in securing the furniture for the house I thought it was only fitting for you and your daughter to come visit, plus I am sure Christine has missed you both terribly."

Christine seemed to hear her name and she turned to face the masked man and her old dance instructor. "Hm? Oh, I bet you two are frozen! I'll go make everyone some tea!" Christine said as she happily ran off to the kitchen.

Erik watched her go with a skeptical gaze. "Meg? Would you mind helping her? To be honest, I don't trust her with the stove just yet."

Meg smiled and nodded before following after Christine. After the two girls had left, Erik led Madame Giry to the living room and they both sat in overstuffed chairs facing the fireplace.

"As I said in the letter, I couldn't have been happier with your choice of furnishings. Thank you once more."

"And as I said it my reply, it was no great trouble at all. Christine seems happy, and you also appear happier than I remember." Madame changed the subject abruptly, but she had never been one to be discreet or sugarcoat things.

"Yes, I believe we are quite content." Erik replied, gazing into the fire.

"There have been rumors going around in the city, since she left Raoul."

"I didn't care for gossip along your rats in the Populaire, nor do I care for it now, Madame."

"I would not mention it if I did not think it was important. Raoul has said that his beloved fiancé left in the night. He also would not speculate if she left willingly or not, but the public seems to believe the latter." Madame picked her words carefully, but she knew Erik understood her meaning.

"I thought they assumed I was dead? I read the paper, and a rather boastful gentleman talked all about how he had shot the masked man down, heard him scream and then fall on the ground dead before him." Erik replied coldly.

"They believe you are a phantom, Erik, a ghost that haunts a destroyed building, and since Christine's 'disappearance' it seems they only believe in you more."

Erik felt his rage boiling inside of him. How dare the boy issue a public announcement saying Christine left in the night, leading everyone to assume it was a kidnapping! He had been a fool to think the damn boy would just let her run back to him without somehow saving face.

"Tea is ready!" Christine said cheerily as she carried in a silver serving tray, her face glowing. Meg followed close behind with a smile on her pretty face as well.

"No wonder you wanted me to watch her! I thought water was impossible to burn, but Christine may prove me wrong." Meg teased as Christine set down the tray and poured everyone a cup.

"Oh hush! I was doing fine!" Christine said and turned to Erik, a pout on her face. "Honestly, sending in someone to watch over me as I make tea!"

"One can never be too careful." Erik said, but his mood was considerably darker than before and Christine took note, but decided against asking about it with the Giry's present.

The rest of the morning continued without a hitch. Meg and Christine mostly rattled on about this or that while Madame Giry and Erik sat and listened. As afternoon came around the Giry's departed for other appointments with promises to keep in touch. Christine watched the two women walked down the gravel pathway, avoiding puddles the morning storm had left and as soon as they were out of sight she closed the door with a happy sigh and returned to the living room where Erik sat, staring at the dying fire.

Christine sat down next to him and snuggled against his side, as usual, but he didn't put his arm around her. Then she remembered how his mood had soured earlier. "Erik? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Christine." He said unconvincingly.

"Erik, I know something's wrong, I saw it earlier. Now are you going to play silly games with me or just tell me what's bothering you."

"What if it was none of your business? Did you take time to ponder that notion?" Erik said as he stood up to begin pacing the room like a caged tiger.

"Fine, it's none of my business then."

"What did you tell the boy when you left?" Erik finally said after a heavy silence had filled the room.

"What?" Christine exclaimed, shocked and confused. Was he talking about Raoul?

"Are you becoming hard of hearing, darling? I said, what did you tell the boy when you left?" He stopped pacing and stared at Christine with his intense golden eyes.

"I told him the truth! That I was going back to be with you!"

"Don't lie to me Christine." Erik warned as his eyes continued to bore straight into her.

"Why would I lie to you? I told him that I couldn't stay with him! That I needed to go back to you, that I wanted to stay with you!"

"Oh, I see. So did he just call up his little carriage and wish you bon voyage then?" Erik spit venomously at her, finally turning his gaze away, only so he could pick up his pacing again.

"No he did not! He spent a great deal of time telling me how wrong I was, and how he wouldn't allow me to go. But I think he knew he couldn't keep me with him." Christine stood and walked over to Erik, standing in his path and grabbing one of his arms gently. "He knew during our performance that you held everything I had, my mind, my heart, my entire soul."

"Are you aware of what he told the public?" He asked, although the venom was gone from his tone and his eyes were much softer.

"No, I don't particularly care."

"That's what I told Madame. But it seems your dear boy has made it appear that The Phantom is still around, and has kidnapped you."

"What?! That's ridiculous! People actually believe that?" Christine shouted. "I'm going to write him immediately! I'm going to insist that he take back that statement, and tell them that I am fine and left on my own will!"

Erik's temper seemed to cool as soon as Christine's flared. Something inside him needed to hear her say just one more time that she came back to him because she wanted to. He wrapped his arms around her and engulfed her in a tight hug.

Christine was surprised at first when she felt Erik's arms wrap around her, but she realized that he had needed reassurance and she had given that to him. She hugged him back fiercely, burying her head into his chest.

And in that moment, she didn't care what everyone else thought. All that mattered was that she was with her angel and they were safe and secure and in love.


	12. Chapter 12

Erik did not see Christine for the rest of the day. She had gone into her room, intent on writing Raoul a letter demanding he tell the reporters and newspapers the real truth. He picked up a book left on one of the end tables and began to read, smiling every once in a while when he heard an exasperated sigh or groan come from behind the closed door of Christine's room. The book Erik had picked up was a book of bedtime tales parents often read to their children, and although he was not particularly interested in children's tales, the corner of one story had been folded down and it caught him eye.

"The Dragon and the Dame? Never heard of this one…" Erik murmured to himself as he flipped to the page containing the short tale.

The story started, of course, with a beautiful young girl who lived a happy but simple life out in the woods with her father. Erik couldn't help but picture his Christine in the role of the story-book girl. The girl had a fondness of flowers, and although her father warned her of the dangers of the woods, she would often wander far into the depths of the forest looking for flowers. One day the girl was in the darkest and deepest part of the forest when the town dragon spotted her. The dragon was known to harass villagers and they were all afraid of him. The dragon became infatuated with the beautiful girl and took her away to live with him in his tower many miles away. At first, the girl cried and begged to be set free so she could go home, but soon a friendship formed between the girl and her captor. In the meantime, the girl's father had been going into the town, beseeching anyone to go and save his daughter. One day the most handsome man in the town said he would go rescue the girl if her father promised she would marry him in return, and her father gladly accepted. With the promise of the girl's hand in marriage, the man set off to rescue the dame.

At this point Erik threw the book across the room, disgusted with what he knew the ending to be. The handsome young man would kill the terrible dragon that the held the girl against her will and then marry her and live a long and happy life with her. No matter that the dragon never harmed the girl, or that she befriended him, or that she was to marry a man she did not even know, as long as the evil dragon was slain, everything was alright.

Erik let out a disgusted growl and stalked into the kitchen to pour some brandy. He was just about to drain his second glass when he heard Christine's soft voice behind him.

"Erik? You drink?" He could hear the shock in her voice, and maybe a little bit of hurt, but Erik refused to turn around.

"It would appear so, wouldn't it?" He knew he was being short with her, but he didn't care.

Christine came and stood next to Erik and his now-empty glass and poured more brandy into it. The masked man stood and watched her as she took a tiny sip of the fire-water, and coughed after.

"So you think you are going to take up drinking now?" Erik asked, leaning against the kitchen counter

"It would appear so, wouldn't it?" Christine threw his words back and him and took a much larger sip without coughing after.

Erik watched her and just as she was about to take her third sip he snatched the glass out of her hands. "What do you think you're doing?" He hissed and threw the glass to the ground.

"I was drinking Erik! Come now, you're not stupid." Christine spat and went over to the cupboard to get a new glass.

"So help me, Christine, if you open that cupboard I will smash this bottle all over the floor." Erik's voice was low and dark, and for a moment he sounded very much like the Phantom once again.

Christine's small hand hovered over the knob to the cupboard. "Honestly, are you going to throw a little fit because I drank some of your brandy? What's wrong? Won't you share with me?" Christine knew she was angering him, but she didn't care. He had angered her, and she wasn't going to back down to one of his childish tantrums.

Erik let out a frustrated yell and took a few large steps to where Christine was standing and grabbed her arms, shaking her. "Damn you! Why must you needle me?"

Christine struggled against the tight grip and finally broke free from his grasp and took a few steps back. "Damn me? Damn you, Erik! What do you think you're doing? Drinking and yelling at me, what did I do? How have I offended you now, my master? Please, tell me so that I might repent!" Christine shouted.

Erik didn't respond with anything other than an exasperated yell and stalked off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Christine stood there, dumbfounded, for a while. She went and picked up the broken brandy glass on the floor, and then walked into the living room, nearly tripping over the discarded book of fairy tales. She bent down to pick it up, recognizing it as the book she had been reading last night. Christine pieced together the book and Erik's behavior and sighed sadly. Leave it to Erik. She placed the book back on the end table and walked down to Erik's room and knocked softly on his door.

"Leave me be!" Erik shouted through the door.

"Erik, did you bother reading the end of the story?" Christine asked gently, her hand still pressed against the door.

"Why would I Christine? I know the ending; it's the same as all the others." He was no longer shouting.

Christine shook her head and tried the doorknob, surprised to see it was unlocked. Erik was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. She moved over to where he was sitting and took a seat next to him.

"The handsome young man found the tower that the girl was staying in and charged in. The girl was sitting between the dragon's paws, fast asleep. Before she had fully awoken and could see what was happening, the man came and killed the dragon. She burst into tears, and the young man was confused. He told her he had come to free her from her captivity, when she screamed 'I wasn't a captive! I stayed because I loved him!' and took the sword from the dragon and killed herself with it. The end." Christine whispered the end of the story into Erik's ear.

Erik lifted his masked face and searched Christine's dark eyes, determining if what she had said was true or not. After seeing that she was telling him the truth he pulled her into a fierce hug.

"Now do you know why I bookmarked that story? I would rather die than live without you." Christine whispered into Erik's ear before pulling back to stare into his golden eyes.

She saw so much pain when she gazed into his eyes. She saw the years of neglect he suffered at the hands of his mother, the years of abuse and fear because of the gypsies, and the anger he felt because of society. However, just below that surface of hurt and loneliness she saw her Erik, the kind, protective, smart man. She reached her hand up and gripped the side of his mask, and she felt Erik immediately tense.

"Please, Erik, I can't kiss you with the mask on." Erik closed his eyes but relaxed slightly, just enough for Christine to lift the mask a small amount.

Christine managed to get the mask about halfway off before Erik tensed and moved away. "I-I can't. I'm sorry…" Erik said and pulled back, securing the mask over his whole face once more.

She didn't say anything when Erik pulled away. Instead she just moved forward slightly and placed a small, slow kiss on his cheek. She let her face linger close, inhaling a familiar scent. "You're wearing your cologne again, the one from Persia." Christine said with a small smile.

Erik had closed his eyes while she kissed his cheek but he opened them and smiled when she noticed his cologne. "You are correct."

Christine leaned in again, almost like she was going to kiss his cheek again, but this time she touched her lips to his, just ever so gently before pulling back.

"You smell nice."

Erik nearly melted from her kiss and shivered at her whisper. He felt the old flames of desire run through his body, never before had he had Christine this close, and he had nearly forgotten the rose-petal soft texture of her lips. He had to use every muscle in his body to stop himself from grabbing her and revenging her lips with his own.

Christine seemed to sense the heightened charge in the room and she sat back. "I'm going to bed now, goodnight Erik."

Erik watched as she got up and started to walk towards the door. Just before she reached it though he got up and swept her up into his arms, his lips inches from hers.

"Erik…" Christine's voice was just barely above a whisper and her eyes were glazed with a look he had only seen during their performance of Don Juan.

He lowered his face slowly, he didn't want to scare her, and kissed her lips once more. Christine immediately responded to his kiss and leaned up into it. She didn't open her mouth, and neither did he, but their kiss was still passionate enough for Christine to be breathless when they both pulled away.

"I love you Christine." Erik said as he released her.

Christine smiled, a blush forming on her cheeks from their earlier behavior. "I love you too Erik. I'm going to bed now." Christine smiled and then opened the door, but stopped right before setting out towards her room. "The door will be unlocked." She met his eyes as she said this and quickly excited later, leaving Erik awestruck as to her meaning.


	13. Chapter 13

-1Christine slowly made her way back to her room, her mind reeling at what she had just said. She felt like kicking herself! How could she be so brash? So crude!? She entered her room and quickly walked to her closet to get changed for the night, hoping she could just go to sleep and forget everything that she had just said.

Christine slipped off her day dress and started to unlace her numerous layers of undergarments, but as the layers started to fall away she started to think about her body in a more critical way. Of course, she had always been called beautiful by Erik, but that was just her face. What would he think of her, _all_ of her? She was now fully naked and she turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror, a small frown on her face. Her skin was creamy white, and she wondered if he would think she was too pale. Her breasts were also slighter smaller than the other girl's had been at the Populaire, would Erik mind that? Christine placed a hand across the tight muscles of her abdomen, pleased with at least that. She turned slightly and looked at herself from the side, aware of the toned legs of a dancer. Was that something a man would find desirable? Suddenly Christine found herself feeling ashamed. Why did she care if she was desirable or not!? She shouldn't think about those kinds of things. Christine quickly moved away from her reflection and grabbed her chemise and slipped it over her head and made her way towards her bed.

As she settled under the covers her mind drifted back to Erik and her offer from earlier. Would he be coming in soon? Christine strained her ears, but she heard no footsteps in the hallway, no light knocking on her door. She felt a little sting of disappointment, but she fought it off. She should be glad he didn't take her up on her lusty offer! Christine rolled over to her side and started out of the window, her mind running like a racehorse. What if he didn't come because he thought her disgusting and easy, like a common street whore? Christine groaned and shut her eyes. No, Erik knew her better than that, he had watched her as she grew up, and he knew she was never one of the girls who snuck out to meet boys in the shadows of the opera house. With a large sigh Christine rolled back over and tried to calm down her troubled mind and go to sleep, unaware that Erik's mind was just as troubled as her own.

---

Erik sat on his bed stunned for many minutes after Christine left. Had she just said what he thought she said? And if she had, why did she say it? Was she testing him? Was she trying to see if he was a gentleman or just a lust-filled animal? His mind was telling him that she was not ready for what she had implied, but the way her eyes had glinted in the moonlight led her to believe that she meant what she said.

Finally, Erik rose from his position and started towards the door, but he stopped inches from it. He couldn't go to her room! He was older, wiser, she was barely a woman! Surely she didn't really know what it was that would come of this? Erik growled and stalked back to his bed and threw himself down on it, his mind aching at the battle raging within the confines of his skull. No. He couldn't, he wouldn't. Christine looked up to him, followed by his lead, and he wouldn't take advantage of her naiveté.

With a tormented sigh he resigned himself to his decision and tried his hardest to find another elusive lover, sleep.

---

Christine woke up earlier than usual in the morning and she stretched lazily, not looking forward to the awkward situation with Erik she was sure was in her very near future. She got up and dressed herself in a casual lavender day dress and brushed out her long curls, deciding to pull some of it back with a pearl pin for something different. She looked at her appearance in the mirror to make sure she looked alright, but she was reminded of how she stared at her naked appearance last night and she blushed a bright red and turned away from her vanity mirror. With a deep breath to try and calm down her blush, Christine rose and exited the room.

She entered the living area and was surprised to see that Erik was not around. She tip-toed down the hall and pressed her ear against the door to his room, but she didn't hear anything. She slowly opened it a crack and peered into the room, surprised to see Erik laying on top of the covers, still in the closed he wore last night, fast asleep.

Christine closed the door with care and silently crept back down the hall and to the kitchen, She had never been up before Erik, and with that, she had never made him breakfast. She opened up the cupboards and started looking around for something to make, a happy smile on her face.

---

Erik was slowly pulled out of his slumber by the faint smell of something burning. When his senses started to sharpen he sat up in a panic. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air, and he heard some coughing coming from outside his door. Christine! He jumped up and ran as fast as could to the kitchen, worry washing over him and flooding his senses.

When he opened the door to the kitchen his eyes quickly looked around for what caused the smoke, and he felt relief hit him as soon as the source was located. There was Christine, her face dark with soot and her hair clinging to her sweaty face, and in her hands was a pan containing two black chards of what Erik assumed to be, toast.

"Thank God…" Erik breathed as he leaned against the door, the panic in his chest starting to ease away.

Christine, however, was not as relaxed as Erik. In fact, her doe eyes were brimming with tears. "Oh, you're up…" She said sadly as she dumped the pan in the large sink behind her. "I was going to try and surprise you with breakfast, but…" Christine's sniffles stopped her from saying anything else and she turned to draw some water from the sink so Erik wouldn't see the tears start to slip down her face.

Pity at Christine's sadness welled up inside of Erik's chest and he moved closer to Christine, gently turning her to face him. "The thought is moving, my dear." He said as he brushed some of her tears off her dirty face.

Christine's bottom lip quivered slightly. "I can't even make toast! I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

Erik laughed slightly and pulled Christine into a tight hug. "Oh, Christine. You are many things, but pathetic is not one of them. Now, why don't you go draw yourself a bath and I'll get this cleaned up and make you something to eat."

Christine took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok…maybe you can give me another cooking lesson at dinner?"

Erik offered Christine a small smile. "Maybe."

---

The morning passed by smoothly, other than Christine's cooking accident. Erik made them both waffles and they ate together and talked happily about the good weather, and they both made predictions on when they thought the last snowfall would be and how long winter would last. After breakfast the pair made their way into the living area, Erik started sketching in a notebook and Christine continued reading her book of children's tales. The morning was starting to give way to noon when Christine noticed her letter to Raoul sitting on one of the end tables. She had put it down yesterday and had forgotten all about it.

"Erik, I need to mail my letter." Christine said as she placed her book down in her lap.

Erik had been so focused on his sketch that he jumped slightly when Christine's voice broke the peaceful silence of the room. "Hm? Oh, oh. Well, the runner won't be here for another week."

Christine looked confused. "Runner?"

Erik nodded. "That's what I call him. He runs little errands for me. I don't much care for the thought of having servants, especially ones that live in home, so I hired a young boy by the name of Jacob when I decided to move here. We made an arrangement, he stops by every other week to take letters I need sending to town and deliver any food items or goods I may need." Erik explained.

"Oh" Christine said simply as she started to change her position on the chaise she was lounging on.

"Ah!" Erik called out, and Christine froze. "I was sketching you, I'm nearly done…" He said, rather sheepishly.

Christine smiled and moved her body back how she was before she stopped reading. "Oh, why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

Erik picked up his sketch pad and charcoal once more and started up his drawing once more. "Because, I find that models look much more natural if they are unaware they are modeling."

"Oh, really? And how did you find this out?" Christine thought she felt a little tug on her heart. Erik had sketched others? How many others?

Erik paused his sketching for a moment to look up at Christine, curious as to her tone. If he didn't know better, he would think she sounded jealous. "I have sketched a few others in my lifetime. None of them could ever hope to compare to your beauty though."

Christine laughed and blushed slightly as she picked her book back up. "Very smooth words, Monsieur. I wonder how many others you have made blush with it."

Erik smiled and looked back down at his drawing, concentrating on his work once more. He had sketched Madame Giry once, but it was only a couple months after she had rescued him from his gypsy captors, and he was still young and his work was mediocre, at best. Antoinette, or Ani as he called her, had loved it and kept it. He wondered briefly if she still had it. Later, after she had married and Meg was just a little bundle of blankets, he had sketched a family portrait. Again, she loved it. Last time Erik saw that sketch it was in a frame and hanging in her office at the opera house.

Erik looked down at the charcoal portrait of Christine. She looked lovely, curled up with a book in her hands and her curls falling gracefully around her shoulders, but even with his skilled hands, he could not hope to capture half of the beauty she radiated. Christine looked over and noticed that he was no longer drawing.

"Are you done?" Christine asked, marking her page and setting the book down on the end table that held her letter.

"Yes I am." Erik said as he signed his initials in the corner of the paper.

"May I see?" Christine asked, although she was already straining her neck over, trying to get a glimpse of the sketch.

Erik nodded and handed the notebook over to Christine. He watched her face as she gazed down at the picture in her hands. Her mouth opened slightly and she looked back up at him with admiring eyes.

"Erik…this is breath taking!" Christine knew Erik was a skilled artist, she had seen the sketches of her face on her visit down to his lair on their first meeting, but this one had so much more detail than those drawings and watercolors. "May I keep it?"

Erik smiled and leaned back in his chair. "If you wish, I'm glad you like it."

Christine gently tore the page out of the notepad. "Like it? Oh, Erik, I love it!" She said as she carefully ran her fingers over it. She stood up and walked over to the chair Erik was seated in and bent down and kissed his visible cheek. "Thank you."

Erik's eyes fluttered shut at Christine's lips brushed against his skin. "You're welcome." He murmured as he opened his eyes and looked up at Christine.

Christine felt her heart leapt when Erik's eyes met her, and the charge she felt in the air last night in his room seemed to return. Christine was surprised when she felt her breath hitch in her throat and she cleared her throat a few times to try and ease her breathing back to normal. Her eyes dropped from Erik's gaze when she saw his tongue slip out to lick his lips and she felt her body warm at the sight of it. Once more she felt herself slipping under the spell that was Erik.

"II'm going to go put this in my room…" Christine stuttered and hurried down to her room, desperate to escape the heat that seemed to erupt when her body was close to Erik's.

Erik watched her go and tried to slow the beating of his heart. As he watched her disappear behind her door, he hated himself for not following her last night. He had a feeling he could follow her now and she would not object, but again, he could not being himself to do it. Instead he got up and made his way outside to the small covered patio, hoping that the cold February air would cool his raging desires.


	14. Chapter 14

-1Christine decided to stay in her room after she finished hanging her picture above her bed so she could calm down some. It seemed she could no longer be near Erik without her body charging with desire, and she wasn't exactly pleased with that fact. Christine tried to clear her mind of the erotic images that Erik had awaked as she sat down at her vanity, idly running a comb through her curls. Soon her hair was silky smooth and tangle free and she found she had nothing to occupy herself with. With a sigh she realized she would have to go back out into the main living area, and potentially put herself right back into the situation she was trying to avoid.

Christine was surprised to find that Erik was not in the living room when she entered it though. Curiosity peaked inside of her and she made her way to his room. The door was closed, and she knocked, but there was no reply. She called his name a few times, but still she was met with silence and nothing more.

"Where did he go?" Christine wondered aloud and continued to search the house. He wasn't in the kitchen, nor the dining room. She checked the library that doubled as his study, but he wasn't there. Christine even checked the spare bedroom, but still she found no trace of Erik. The only other room was the music room, a room she had not been in save for the first day they moved in and she took her tour of the house. It was a fairly simple room, there wasn't even a piano in it, but the piano in the living room was nice enough to make up for the lack of one in the room. It did have an assortment of other, smaller instruments, though, Christine mused.

The door to the music room was closed, and Christine knocked. She sighed when she heard no reply and gently opened the door, not surprised to find it empty, save for the instruments and shelves of music books and staff paper. She didn't really expect to find Erik here, neither one of them ever used the room. Christine paused at that thought. Why didn't they use this room? Music had done so much for them, it was the main factor that brought them together, and now they had both deserted it? Christine took a few more steps and started to really look around the room. Her fingers gently ran across one of the many fine violin cases and she longed to hear their lovely notes once more. Unfortunately, her father had never taught her to play the instrument that he had loved so much.

"What are you doing?" Christine jumped when she heard Erik's voice from the doorway and whirled around at once.

"I was looking for you, I came out of my room and couldn't find you." Christine explained, dropping her hand from the violin case.

"Why did you think I would be in here?" Erik's tone was colder than before and Christine was surprised. Was he angry? What for?

"I didn't really think you would be here, but I had checked everywhere else…" Christine murmured, feeling like a child caught eating sweets before dinner. She hated when Erik spoke down to her!

"You didn't think to check the patio." Erik said as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

Christine felt her cheeks burn and she lowered her head in embarrassment. Of course, he made it sound like he was out there all the time and she was dim for not thinking of checking there first. "Why were you out there? It's the middle of winter." Christine asked, lifting her head and trying to rid her cheeks of their blush.

"I found the living room a bit stuffy. I thought some fresh air might help cool me down." Erik said.

"Well obviously it worked, your tone is as cold as ice." Christine retorted and turned away from Erik, walking further into the room.

Erik stood shocked for a second after he heard Christine's curt retort, but he quickly recovered. "Excuse me for my displeasure at seeing you in _here,_ of all rooms."

Christine was about to pull a book of songs out of the shelf when she heard Erik's comment. She turned around, confusion written all over her pretty face. "And why shouldn't I be in the music room?"

Erik ignored Christine's question and instead tried to steady his fraying nerves. Music. It was the only other love in his life, but after the failure of his opera, and Christine's initial rejection, he couldn't being himself to play another note. Just the thought of Christine continuing with her music made him want to join her, tutor her as he once did. But he had tried that once, and the ending had been disastrous. He didn't want to take the role of her tutor again, or of her angel, or of her father. He wanted to be her lover, her companion, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And he couldn't do that if she brought music back.

"Erik? You never answered my question." Christine said, studying Erik. It appeared as if he had dazed out.

"Because Christine! You'll ruin everything, again!" Erik shouted so suddenly that Christine gasped and flinched back. "Don't you understand what music did to us?" He added, shoving one of the violin cases off of the table it rested on in his fit of rage.

"Erik! Stop it!" Christine cried as the sick sound of snapping wood echoed in the room. The sight of the broken instrument nearly broke her heart. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine Erik destroying something he had coveted so dearly.

"I'll destroy them before they destroy us!" Erik cried as he pushed another priceless violin crashing to the floor.

"Erik!" Christine wailed, tears spilling from her eyes. "Don't! What are you talking about?" Christine wanted to run over to the defenseless instruments, but Erik's rage had paralyzed her body with fear.

"The music is over!" Erik roared as he flung the last remaining violin to the floor. As the instrument cracked with it companions on the wooden floor, Erik turned and fled the room, leaving a bewildered and devastated Christine to pick up the mangled violins, evidence of his temper.

---

Erik locked himself in his room for the remainder of the night. Christine moved around the house on tiptoe, afraid to disturb him. She knew he had entered one of his black mood, as Madame Giry had once called his state of mind. Christine mused over his words as he made her dinner of cheese, crackers, and fruits. He was afraid music would destroy them? How had music ever destroyed their relationship?

_Don't you remember? He lied to you about being your Angel…of music. _A nasty little voice nagged inside of Christine's head. She couldn't deny that it was right though. The first chink in their strange relationship inside the Opera Populaire was when she realized her tutor had been lying to her for all these years. _But that wasn't really the fault of the music_. She countered. _But the way he captivated you with his voice was. He knew what he was doing. He took advantage of you!_ Christine wished the voice of reason would stop, because it was right. _And what of the day at the cemetery? You were slipping from his grasp so he tried to use his song to lure you back in_. No, that made it sound like she was an animal being stalked by a hunter. Erik didn't look at her like prey, he did that so he could protect her. She was supposed to stay with him, not Raoul, and he was just trying to show her that. _What about the performance of Don Juan?_ The voice screamed and she shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again. She sat there and tried to think of an excuse, some way to justify Erik, like she had before, but she could not. He had slipped in, taken over the role, and then tried to trick her into staying after she had already made up her mind. At first, she was petrified, and a deeper part of her soul was angry. How dare he use his voice as a weapon!? It was her anger that made her pull the mask from his face in front of half of Paris. It was his only weakness, and she was tired of him taking advantage of her, so she exploited it.

"I am the viper he accuses me of." Christine sighed as she pushed her food away, her appetite had left. She realized he was right, they did not need music any more in their lives.

_But you cannot desert music! That's the bond you share, that's what made him so different from Raoul!_ The same voice that had torn down music now defended it. It was wrong though! Raoul and Erik were completely different, even if music wasn't a factor. Raoul was calm, gentle, predictable even, and Erik was wild, unbridled, even frightening. _Remember the night when he first took you? How your voices combined and soared new heights? Are you willing to forget that all?_ The voice was fainter now, but still Christine could not ignore it. That night he had first brought her to his home in the catacombs of the opera house was indeed the night her song was awakened fully. But Christine was willing to give that up, the joy she had felt, if it kept Erik and her together. _If you would do that for him, than you are no viper_. Her conscious whispered one last time. Christine sighed and got up from her seat, it was late and there was nothing left to do, or anyone to talk to, so she might as well go to bed. Christine nearly dropped her plate though, when she turned around and saw Erik standing in the doorway.

His appearance was horrible dishelmed, a shock for Christine, since he was normally impeccably well dressed. His dark hair had come loose and hung around his face, and his golden eyes were bloodshot and stood out against the stark whiteness of his mask. He had removed his cravat and coat and stood only in his shirt, which was coming untucked Christine noted, and his breeches.

"Erik?" Christine wasn't sure if he had even noticed her, he seemed to be looking right through her.

"Christine." Erik slurred and Christine nearly retched at the smell of alcohol on his breath. He was obviously drunk, and that explained his appearance.

"Erik, when did you start driving so heavily?" Christine asked as turned her back on him so she could deposit her plate of food in the wash basin. Erik didn't reply and she didn't hear him walk up behind her as she started to draw her water.

Christine jumped when she felt Erik snake his arm around her waist and she tried to shrug him off. "Stop…" Erik paid no heed to Christine's request though, and started to kiss the exposed flesh of her neck. Christine squirmed and turned off the water. "Erik!" He answered her with more heated kisses as his hands wrapped completely around her waist. "Please don't."

"Why, Christine?" He asked, lifting his head from her neck, his bloodshot eyes catching hers as he spun her around to face him.

Christine tried to squirm her way free of Erik's grasp again. "Because, Erik. Your advances are unwelcome."

Erik laughed and pulled her closer to his body. "You were much more, welcoming, to them last night. Do I have to wait until dark then?"

Christine felt her face burn with shame. "Get off of me, you're drunk." Christine pushed against his chest and managed to break his hold and slip a few feet away.

"That I am." Erik replied, turned to face Christine.

"I'm going to bed then, I have no desire to deal with your drunken behavior." Christine stated curtly and turned to leave.

"How long do you plan to tease me, Christine?" Erik called as Christine reached the doorway. She stopped and turned around, indignation written over her features.

"What are you talking about?" Christine asked, her arms crossing over her chest.

"You know what I mean. How long will your game continue?" Erik called, leaning against the kitchen counters, watching her like a hawk would watch its prey.

Christine didn't reply at first, she was too appalled. But, when she did think of her answer, she walked over and placed herself close to Erik, their hips nearly touching. The smell of brandy was heavy on his ragged breath and she had to stop herself from gagging as she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Well, Erik, you were the one who was too afraid to come to my room last night. How long do _you_ plan on teasing me?" Christine turned and walked away before Erik would have time to react to her saucy remark. She was out of the kitchen and well on her way to her room before his drunken mind had even begun to register the meaning behind her words.

---

Christine made sure the door to her room was locked as she undressed for the night. She could hear Erik making some kind of a ruckus in the other rooms of the house, but she chose to ignore him. He was in a foul mood, and drunk on top of it, and she would not respond to his actions. She brushed out her long curls and climbed into her bed, letting her mind wander over the events of the day. She had never gotten the chance to talk to Erik about his actions in the music room, he had to go and drink himself stupid. That would be another issue she would address with him. Twice now he had turned to the bottle of brandy when he was upset, and if tonight was any indication of how he acted when he did manage to get drunk, she was not going to stand for it, at least not when she was at home. She would go take a carriage to the Giry's if that's what was needed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound at her door. Christine sat up and bed and listened, unsure of what was making the sound. It wasn't a knock, but she knew it was Erik. After a minute she realized he was trying to turn the handle of her door. She silently thanked God that she had locked the door this evening and she laid back down. Christine knew that if she talked, she would only encourage Erik to get worked up, and frankly, she was tired and didn't have the energy to argue with him through her door. Erik had given up rattling her doorknob and left, she heard his footsteps as he walked back down the hall. Before drifting off to sleep, Christine let her mind wander back to the Giry's. She hadn't seen them since they had visited all those weeks ago, and she needed to be away from Erik for a couple of days, just until the electricity that was flowing between them died down, because obviously it was affecting Erik just as it was affecting her. Christine yawned and shut her eyes, yes, tomorrow she would tell Erik her plan, and that evening she would go stay with the Giry's.


	15. Chapter 15

The night came and went without any further disruptions from Erik. Then morning rolled around, a beautiful, clear, winter morning, but still not a peep was heard from behind the shut door of Erik's room. Christine had already bathed and readied herself for the day, as well as packed a small suitcase for her trip to the Giry's and still there was no sight or sound of Erik. Christine looked up at the tall clock in the living room, it was nearly one in the afternoon, and Erik should have been up long ago! Panic ran through Christine. What if something had happened to Erik in his drunken stupor? What if he had hurt himself? She rose and hurried down the hall to his room, thanking God that he, unlike she, had forgotten to lock his bedroom door.

The fear and worry Christine felt drained out of her the moment she entered the room. Erik was sound asleep on his bed, still wearing his rumpled clothes from last night. The room itself was a disaster. He had pulled down his curtain rod, thrown most of his blankets off his bed, scattered everything off his desk and pulled most of his clothes from his wardrobe, it looked like an angry little boy had just thrown a tantrum. Christine shook her head, took in a deep breath of air to calm herself down, and tried to remind herself that in many ones, Erik still was a child.

As if he knew she was thinking about him, Erik sleepily groaned and rolled over so he was now facing Christine. She walked over to his bed, placing her feet carefully so she wouldn't step on any of the many things on the ground, and sat down next to Erik's sleeping form. Christine leaned down so she could whisper to him, trying to ignore the stench of stale alcohol that still lingered on his skin.

"Erik, Erik, it's time to wake up…" Christine whispered as she gently shook Erik's shoulder

Erik slowly opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, groaning again as sunlight hit his overly sensitive eyes. His head was spinning but he managed to comprehend that Christine was talking to him. "Hm?" He eloquently moaned as he yawned.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but my carriage will arrive shortly and I wanted to say goodbye properly." Christine had raised her voice just above a whisper and sat back up straight as she waited for his reaction. Erik was sleepy and hung-over, but that didn't mean he would take her news any better than if he had been well-rested and in a perfect mindset.

Erik's eyes widened and he sat up in bed like he had just been burned by his pillow. Instantly, he reeled forward and had to put a hand on the wall to steady his body. Christine nibbled on her lip as she nervously waited for what he was going to say. "You're leaving?!"

Christine nodded. "I'll be home in two, three days at the most. I think we need some time apart."

"No!' Erik roared, wincing as his own voice pounded against his skull. "You will not leave me a second time!"

Christine inched herself closer to Erik and gently ran her hand across his left cheek. "Erik, darling, I'm just going to the Giry's. I love you, and I have no intention of ever really leaving you again."

Erik was silent as Christine's soft hand traced a line down his cheek but as soon as she had stopped, he spoke again. "And the boy? Do you plan on seeing him during your little trip?"

Christine looked down guiltily. She could not deny that the idea had crossed her mind, but Erik would not understand that her intention were truly friendly. A part of her heart loved Raoul, very much so, but her soul belonged to Erik.

Erik read her answer in her silence and he jumped out of bed, turning his back on Christine. "You are! You want to go visit _him_! Why, so he can figure out a way to come rescue you again?"

"No! I told you, I love you!" Christine pleaded, hoping he would hear the truth in her words.

"You told the boy the same thing, did you not?" Erik was no longer yelling, but as he turned and his eyes locked with Christine's, he might as well have been screaming at her at the top of her lungs his words hurt her so badly.

"I-I…" Christine tried to speak, but she found she could form no words for her gapping mouth. Her eyes started to sting and she blinked furiously, willingly her tears not to start, but they did despite her best efforts. She raised a hand and covered her mouth to hold back the sobs she knew would soon try to burst forth.

Erik ignored her pitiful cries as he turned his back once more. "Go Christine, but don't bother returning."

Christine's head jerked up. "W-what?!" she choked out. She stood up and she ran over to Erik, tugging him around to face her again. "What did you just say?"

Erik allowed Christine to turn him around, but he refused to look down and meet her gaze. "You heard me. I took you back once, I won't do it again."

Christine's tears streamed faster down her face. "No, no, it isn't like that!" Christine buried her head against Erik's half-exposed chest. "I'm not leaving you, I just need time away!"

Erik shoved Christine off. "WHY? Why do you _need_ time away from me?" He was yelling again, and now he had taken up pacing around his room, as usual. "Oh, I forgot, how silly of me. I am the monster you tried to convince yourself I wasn't. The beast that should have just died underneath the opera house. Of course you need time to escape from someone like THAT!" Erik spat out

"No! That's not it at all! It's…" Christine wiped the tears off her cheeks and paused to breathe in some air to calm her as her sobs slowly stopped. "I don't know what it is! You make me think things, and feel things…and they, I don't know!" Christine paused to try to think of the words that described what Erik's presence did to her. How was she supposed to explain the images that flooded her mind when he touched her, or how she got a warm feeling in the deepest part of her stomach from the way he would just look at her? "They scare me! I've never experienced anything like how you make me feel, Erik. I have never had the thoughts you make me think and I'm ashamed of my own thoughts! And God, the feelings that you make me feel …" Christine laughed a humorless laugh and continued on, her voice coming out so rapidly she wasn't completely sure Erik was catching everything she was saying. "I know if you ask anything of me I'll do it, no matter what. If you told me I could fly, I would jump off the highest cliff without hesitation! I feel like I can't control my own mind, it's too full of thoughts of you…no, not you, of us. I just want to be able to breathe again, and I can't in this house, with you, at least, not right now, not until I understand what's going on inside me." Christine finished, completely out of breath from her long tirade. She noticed she had started to pace and Erik had stopped.

In fact, Erik had stood still and listened to every word Christine had said. She was scared? As she continued on the meaning of her words dawned on him. Of course, his innocent Christine was scared, she had never been like the other girls of the opera house, the ones who would willingly engage in disgusting acts with boy, and men, they didn't know. Lust was something Christine had never been exposed to, other than with him on two occasions. No wonder she was so afraid of him…

Christine had stopped pacing but her chest was still raising and falling rapidly. Her brown eyes were locked on Erik but he would not meet her gaze, and soon she found her eyes dropping from his masked face to look over his body while he was unaware. He had broad shoulders, and she knew his arms were strong; he had carried her in them many times. As her eyes gazed over his chest, she noticed some dark little hairs peaking out from where his shirt was unbuttoned and she felt blush burn across her cheeks. She felt her eyes drop even lower, to the place she had felt against her but never seen. She shut her eyes tightly and willed the images that had started in her mind to stop. "Erik, please…"

Erik looked back up at Christine, unsure of what she was asking from him. "Please what Christine?"

Christine didn't realize she had actually spoken to Erik until he replied. Shame burned through her but did not silence her. "Please, hold me, kiss me, touch me, anything!" Erik stood still as a statue, shock paralyzing him, but only until Christine spoke again. "Erik!" Christine cried with heady desperation in her voice.

In two small steps, Erik was in front of Christine, his arms wrapped tightly around her and his mouth crashing down against hers. Christine melted into his arms and moaned against his lips as he kissed her. He had one hand on the small of her back, pushing her against him like he was trying to meld her body to his own and the other was roaming the outside of her dress, cursing the heavy fabric that denied him access to the perfect body in his arms. As the kiss deepened, Christine lifted her hands to Erik's face, one resting on his heated flesh and the other on the cool leather. Christine pulled away from the kiss, but their lips continued to touch.

"Erik, let me take it off." Christine whispered gently, her hand stroking the white mask.

Erik opened his eyes, and loosened his hold on Christine. Why did she feel to remove it _now_? Couldn't it wait until they weren't in the position they were in now?

Christine felt his arms loosen and she pushed herself closer once again, ignoring the hard pressure pushing against her thigh. She traced delicate kisses along his left jawbone until she reached his ear. "Please Erik? I want to kiss you, all of you…" Christine whispered between teasing kisses.

"Christine…" Erik groaned and clutched her body to his once again. He moved his head so he could kiss her again but she pulled her head back, much to his disappointment.

"What was that?" Christine asked, pushing herself away from Erik slightly.

"What?" Erik said as he placed a few tiny kisses along Christine's neck, trying to draw her back in.

Christine giggled and pulled away. "Erik stop, listen!"

With a resentful groan, Erik pulled away from Christine's tempting flesh and listened. It sounded like knocking on the front door. Erik was confused, and a little panicked, but then he remembered Christine telling him that a carriage was coming for her soon. "Mademoiselle, I believe your carriage awaits." Erik said as he released Christine from his hold completely.

Christine's eyes widened as she heard a man's voice call from behind the door. "Mademoiselle Daae? I'm your carriage driver, are you there?"

"Erik, I won't go if you ask me to stay…" Christine said, looking from the door to Erik, worrying her swollen bottom lip in the process.

Erik seriously contemplated telling her to stay, but she had explained to him her reasons for leaving. And she promised to return. He could not force her to stay locked in his house until the end of time, that was no better than locking her under the Opera Populaire. "If you're not back by dinner on the third day, I'm coming to get you." Erik warned, although there was a small smile on his face.

Christine wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Well, I wouldn't want to face the wrath of the infamous Opera Ghost." She leaned back so she could kiss him, her playful smile evaporating as she saw his sad eyes. "I promise I'll be back, you won't have the chance to miss me."

Erik hugged her back fiercely. "I already do." Christine thought she saw the shimmer of tears in his cat-like eyes but he had released her and started to walk towards the door before she had the chance to look again. "Alright, you better hurry before he leaves. I'll say goodbye to you here, I'm not sure if my reputation had died down enough for me to make public appearances."

Christine nodded and kissed Erik on his exposed cheek as she stood at the door leading to the hallway. "Thank you for letting me go. You don't know how much this means to me."

"Well, it appears as if I have a bit of housecleaning to do, so you should probably hurry and go before I change my mind and put you to work." Erik joked lightly as he looked back at the mess he had made in his drunken state last night.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. While you were sleeping I took the liberty of disposing off all your liquor." Christine added as she made her way out of the door. "Goodbye Erik! I love you!" She called as she shut the door and made her way down the hall to her room so she could pick up her bags.

Erik ground his teeth together. She had thrown out all of his liquor? Did she not know how priceless some of those bottles were? _Well, if you didn't turn into a drunken ass the last night…_ A voice inside his mind nagged. Erik sighed and turned back to the mess that was facing him, annoyed with the fact that once again, the voice inside his head was right.


End file.
